Now or Never
by Belleshazar
Summary: The last person Angelina Johnson would ever consider dating was that vexing, obnoxious troublemaker commonly known as Fred Weasley. Or at least, that's what she tried to tell herself, anyway. [Slight AU]
1. The Trouble With Chewing Gum

**Disclaimer:** Don't own it, wish I did.

**Chapter One:  
The Trouble Of Accepting Chewing Gum from a Weasley**

"Pssst, Angelina!" A shred of boomslang skin sailed through the air and bounced off of one annoyed Chaser's cheek. "Oi, I'm tryin' to talk to you!"

Angelina shot a withering glare at the notoriously freckled twin sitting at a table adjacent to hers.

"Didn't your mum ever tell you that flicking pieces of dead carcass at a girl isn't any way to get a date?" She hissed across the room.

Suddenly, the bat like figure of Professor Snape swooped into view, and Angelina pretended to be immersed in slicing up a mound of beetle eyes. Fred Weasley, however, was not about to be deterred by a morose potions master, and continued tossing flakes of snake scales in her general direction.

"If you think for one instant that I won't assign you a fourth detention this week, Mr. Weasley, you are very much mistaken." Snape barked, rewarding the cheeky redhead with a sharp cuff on the back of his head.

"Sorry, Professor." Fred quipped, not looking apologetic in the least. "Salamander lard makes the hands quite slippery, don't you think?" Angelina choked at the look of disdain on Snape's sallow face.

"You may want to read the ingredients again, Mr. Weasley." The dryness of his tone could have sucked the moisture from water. "I'm afraid the instructions call for _coriander, jarred_ and not salamander lard. Adding that particular substance to an energizing potion would cause a rather large explosion, and we wouldn't want that, now would we?"

Trying not to erupt into a fit of giggles at the feigned look of surprise on Fred's face, she clamped a hand over her mouth. As bothersome as he could be, the nerve of the carrot topped weasel never failed to force a laugh from her lips.

The boy in question turned his eyes towards her again, batting his lashes in a poor imitation of innocence.

Once Snape's attention had been captured by the steam-belching cauldron of a despairing Hufflepuff, Fred leaned forward and whispered, "I take it you're not mad at me, after all?"

Ignoring him, the ebony skinned girl tossed her long hair over her shoulder and grimaced past the rim of her cauldron, her resolve strengthening. She was mad at the half-witted git for a reason, she reminded herself, the memory of earlier that day crushing her amusement. Mashing her pile of bug eyes with a renewed fury, she imagined it was Fred's face under her pestle instead.

That morning, her dreams had been cut short when Alicia Spinnet's disheveled mane of blond hair popped through the curtains of her four poster bed. Before Angelina had the chance to flop a pillow over her head, blocking out the bright sun, Alicia had shrieked, "I forgot to cast the Awakening spell last night- We're already ten minutes late for McGonagall's lesson!"

Without another word, her friend flung Angelina's school robes at her groggy face and yanked the scarlet draperies back into place.

Snapping abruptly into awareness, the panicking Gryffindor shrugged out of her nightgown and into her witch's robes in record time, then leapt out of bed to find the rest of the 6th year girls scrabbling around the room, desperately throwing on whoever's socks and shirts were within grasping range.

Cursing her luck and sorely missing her morning pumpkin juice, she pushed her way past the horde of shrieking girls and _scampered,_ Alicia quick at her heels.

By the time she skidded to a halt in front of McGonagall's foreboding classroom door, she was a mess. A red and yellow tie was draped loosely around her shoulders, beads of sweat were forming along her forehead, and her hair was sticking out from her scalp like the spikes of an angry horklump. Beside her, Alicia was panting heavily, cheeks flushed and blotchy.

In a last and perhaps hopeless attempt at appearing respectable, the two smoothed down their uniforms. Then, Angelina swung open the door to face the inevitable wrath of Professor McGonagall.

"Now, does anyone know the process of transfiguring a mobile object into- _Ten points from Gryffindor!" _

Emerald fabric swirled around Minerva McGonagall's tightly laced boots as she turned sharply, her feathers quite obviously ruffled at the thought of students interrupting her lecture. Her wrinkled face was sterner than usual, and her thin lips were pressed into a white line.

"Honestly, girls, you've been attending this school for six years now. Is it too much to ask that you arrive on time?" The two tardy girls stuttered out one or two feeble excuses and, heads hanging in shame that only their Head of House could bring, slipped into their seats.

The point deduction caused several Gryffindors to grumble, but the Slytherins in the room smirked, positively overjoyed at the thought of the rubies slipping from their rival's hourglass.

"Not trying to take after yours truly, are we?" Said a teasing voice in her right ear. Craning her neck around, Angelina's dark eyes met those of Fred Weasley, and she felt slightly less miserable at the sight of her friend.

"Don't have a stick of gum on you, do you?" She whispered discreetly, anxious about getting another reprimand. "Didn't get the chance to brush my teeth."

For a moment or two, Fred's hand rummaged around in his bag, and then he triumphantly pulled out a minty piece of chewing gum, wrapped in unidentifiable foil. _He's a regular bloody Mary Poppins, that boy,_ Angelina thought fleetingly. Sneakily, her hand snaked under the desk and she took the gum from him, too grateful to see the redhead's mischievous grin.

Exactly 6.7 seconds later, the young Chaser realized that there was something very, very wrong.

Wrong mainly in that her brain felt about ready to burst out of her skull. There was an odd pressure building in her head, and something was decidedly unnatural about it. Angelina felt blood rushing to her face, and winced as the pain reached a crescendo. A shrill whistling sound rung in her ears.

She felt dizzy... she swayed in her seat... she was about to pass out...

_BAM! FZZT, FZZT, FZZT!_

Thirty heads snapped up to where Angelina sat, a few people yelping in surprise. Without warning, sparks began shooting out of her ears so forcefully that she was thrown backwards in her seat. Brilliant red and emerald green flames erupted from her head in such a blinding display of light that students nearby had to shield their eyes with their arms. After a few terrible moments of mad crackling, the fireworks died down, and Angelina sighed in relief as the rest of the class stared in shocked silence.

"It actually worked!" An awed voice mused. As the embarrassment of the moment sunk in, Angelina whipped around, fury flashing angrily across her features.

"Weasley!"

"Johnson!"

Slowly, mortification and horror sweeping through her, she turned towards McGonagall, who looked absolutely furious. The older woman's hat had fallen to the floor, and her mouth was opening and closing in speechlessness beneath the formidable knot of her bun.

"That is twice today you have needlessly and heedlessly interrupted this lesson, Ms. Johnson, and I will. Not. Have it. In my classroom. Is that clear? A reckless display of immaturity such as the one you have showed me today has earned you thirty points from Gryffindor-" Several groans from the scarlet clad teenagers in the room here. "-_And_ a session of detention after school today."

"But, Professor, it wasn't m-" Angelina's outburst was immediately stifled by the reproachful glower that McGonagall sent her way, and she sank even lower in her seat.

Despite the fact that a) she wanted nothing more than to throttle the idiot twin behind her, and b) having detention meant she would miss a valuable Quidditch practice, she knew that arguing would just get her into deeper trouble.

So, that's what Angelina was brooding about as she ground out her mixture of beetle eyes, root of asphodel, and armadillo bile. In fact, she was so intent on the subject that she didn't notice that her bubbling potion had turned a sickly shade of yellow instead of the blazing purple it was supposed to be- but someone else had.

"Ms. Johnson, it appears that your Gryffindor brain is simply unable to grasp the elementary concept of stirring one's potion." Scoffed Snape, who was staring arrogantly down at her from his hooked nose. He rapped the blackboard with his wand.

"Step three clearly states to stir the substance three times clockwise before adding any ingredient. Luckily, however, it seems that not everyone in this classroom is as dimwitted as you. Flint's potion, for instance, looks absolutely perfect." Angelina fumed- she had seen Snape giving Flint tips in the corner earlier. With a smirk, Snape slithered like the snake he was into the storeroom.

Marcus Flint, the knobby headed captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team sneered at Angelina, his acne scarred face contorting intimidatingly. Repressing a shudder, she squared her shoulders and tried to give him the haughtiest look she could muster, right before a crumpled bit of parchment struck her right between the eyes.

Flint didn't bother to hide his snicker.

Frustrated, Angelina squeezed her eyelids shut, resisting the urge to scream. Why was Fred Weasley always so... so... _insufferable?_ He was waving ecstatically when she was finally calm enough to open her eyes, motioning for her to open the note.

The twin's barely decipherable scrawl appeared as she unfolded the page impatiently. She stared at the childlike scribbles that she could only assume said: _Add a bit more asphodel and then stir counter-clockwise three times._

Angelina sniffed, debating whether or not this was another one of Fred's tricks. As much as she didn't want to become a guinea pig for his experiments, the perfectionist in her decided that getting another P on a potions project would be considerably worse than putting a sizable hole in Snape's classroom. Besides, Fred was a whiz at potions and never bothered to hide it.

Quickly, she chopped up the remainder of her roots and scattered them over the cast iron rim of her cauldron. After a moment's hesitation, she stirred rapidly.

The affect was immediate- the potion frothed, hissed, and then transformed into a perfect shade of purple. Sighing with relief, Angelina flashed a quick grin at Fred, who winked secretively.

Just then, the bell rang, and relieved students hurried to fill sample beakers and scourgify their cauldrons.

As she slapped her potion down on Snape's desk, she decided she rather liked the victorious feeling that flooded through her when Snape stared at her flask in shock. Before the potions master could deduct any points for "mysterious success," she shot out of the dungeon doors.

The rest of the students were filing out behind her when she felt someone clap her on the shoulder. She swung around to find Fred's mop of ginger hair, and for the briefest instant, she found herself admiring the way it fell casually into his thickly lashed eyes.

But Angelina shook herself, feeling incredibly foolish, and was once again aware of the current of 6th years pushing past her.

"You should feel very lucky, Angie." He said, his flashy red trainers falling into step with her.

"Oh, and why's that?" She tried to keep her voice cool, but the words seemed to catch in her throat.

"Well, not only are you privileged enough to have gorgeous me as a friend, but I'm actually going to give you the first apology I think I've ever given anyone. Er, except for that time I accidentally turned Percy's skin blue for a week, but he deserved it, he was being a total git-"

Angelina raised an eyebrow. "You were saying, Fred?"

"Oh, um, right. Anyway, I'm really sorry about that gum episode this morning. I'd no idea that McGonagall would go mental on you. I figured she'd just blame it on me, like she always does."

"It's alright, I'm already over it." Fred's lips quirked at the corners, and Angelina found herself distracted by the shape of his mouth. She stared determinedly at the floor.

"In that case, I'd like to ask you a few questions on behalf of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. Did you experience any unfavorable side effects after sampling the product? Naesau, unexplained sweating, the urge to kick small children?"

"_Fred!"_ Rolling her eyes, she playfully swatted at him.

While the students were pouring out into the Great Hall, a petite brunette bounded over to the two.

"Hi, Fred." Katie Bell launched herself onto the redhead's side, still slightly out of breath from rushing over. She pecked him quickly on the cheek. "Hello, Angelina. Heard you were ditching us at practice tonight."

"Ah, well, not intentionally." She mumbled as Fred slipped a slender arm around Katie's waist, amazed at how fast the two had adjusted to dating each other.

When Fred leaned down to whisper something in Katie's ear, an unexpected pang went through her stomach, and Angelina forced herself to turn away, unable to watch.

Why did she feel this..._ jealous_ out of the blue? They'd been friends for years without her getting all brassed off about one of his girlfriends, so it wasn't as if she had a crush on the irritating Weasley or anything.

Because that would just be ridiculous.

Wouldn't it?


	2. The Trouble With Watching Weasleys Snog

**Disclaimer: **Don't own it, wish I did.

**Chapter Two: **

**The Trouble With Watching Weasleys Snog**

By the time Angelina stumbled from the transfiguration room at 10 o'clock that night, she felt as though she had dropped fifty meters from a broom with some nice hard rocks to cushion her fall.

McGonagall had forced her to scrub the desks and chairs of her classroom, many of which were scorched and ashy from Fred's firework display of earlier. Finally, she had inspected the sparkling clean furniture with her nose stuck far into the air, eyed Angelina's dirt streaked face and sopping wet robes, and dismissed her after a short lecture.

Despite all of those hard hours she spent whacking the Quaffle around the Quidditch field, it had taken a considerable toll on her body to do all that scrubbing without the aid of magic.

Besides a newfound respect for Muggle maids, Angelina felt she had gained a little bit of perspective on her situation with Fred. She didn't have anything else to do while mopping up the mess, so she had mulled over it, and really began to regret all those nasty things she had thought about Katie that day.

(Especially that bit about hoping Fred would accidentally whop her over the head with a bludger and render her insane.) (Or, even worse, the part were she had imagined Fred slipping Canary Creams into her Valentine's Day chocolates, sadly transforming her into a large-beaked bird- permanently.)

Katie was one of her best friends in the entire world. They had been inseparable ever since Kat had tripped her in the Sorting line first year and Angelina had blackened her eye in turn. Well, maybe it had been a few weeks after that.

Curvaceous and short whereas Angelina was tall and waif-like, giggly and optimistic whereas Angelina was dry-witted and a bit serious, the two complimented one another perfectly. In spite of all their differences, the pair hardly ever got into arguments and shared everything.

Even crushes, it seemed.

Her brunette friend always seemed to catch the eye of any boy that might have briefly glanced at Angelina, snaring them instantly with her sweet, pretty face. Although it was a bit off-putting at times, she had become determined a long time ago not to let it come between them. Plus, Merlin knew that the young Chaser didn't have time for boys as it was. So if Katie was crushing on Weasley-

_But you don't like him!_ She mentally slapped herself as she made her way up to where the Fat Lady's portrait hung. Fred was practically her brother. Her liking Fred would be a bit like... well, _George_ liking Fred.

And really, that was just disgusting. And maybe a little intriguing, too.

"Are you going to make me wait all day _and_ all night as well?" Boomed the Fat Lady, who pompously adjusted the ruffles of her pink gown.

"Oh, sorry! Um... Hiccuping hippogriff?"

"Indeed."

The painting swung to the side, and the comforting bustle of the Gryffindor common room reached Angelina's ears. A chorus of "Hi, Leen"s greeted her from where her friends sat, reclining on squashy scarlet and gold cushions that were gathered near the roaring fire.

Without uttering a word, Angelina staggered over to the nearest dilapidated couch and collapsed dramatically onto it.

George Weasley peered over Alicia's tangled mass of blond hair at her, grinning wickedly.

"Ol' McGonny give you a tough time tonight?"

"Uuuuuuuggggggggggghhhhhhhhhh."

Part of this was his fault... If he hadn't helped Fred with those sticks of gum... Smarmy redheads with their stupid entrepreneurships... Angelina reminded herself to scold him when she felt more inclined.

Just then, a pair of slender fingers wedged themselves between her head and the frayed arm of the couch, forcing a fluffy pillow into the space there. The other twin in question pinched her cheek and then ambled over to Katie, who was stretched out like a cat near the hearth, the firelight flickering becomingly across the crescents of her exposed shoulders.

Fred plopped unceremoniously onto her lap.

"Umpf! Fred, geddoffame."

"Oh, hello there, Kates. Didn't see you. Would you mind scooting over a bit?" His voice held an level of cheer that Angelina thought should probably be forbidden at school.

"Can'tmove. Crushingme." Came the wheezing reply as Katie frantically pushed at him.

Another peculiar pang reverberated through Angelina's stomach as Fred slid off her best friend's lap, the light catching Katie's expression as it melted from a pout to a dreamy gaze.

Angelina buried her face into the softness of her pillow, much like an ostrich, willing the image from her mind. She didn't want to think about it now. Not now, not ever.

"Angie, you look absolutely exhausted. Why don't you pack it in and go to sleep?" Alicia advised, always the maternal one.

She blinked blearily. "Mmmh. I'm too tired to move... I think maybe I'll just crash here tonight."

Shrugging, Alicia left Angelina to her much needed rest, giving George a knowing look as he played absently with her snowy locks. Unlike Fred and Katie, they had been going out for the entirety of their Hogwarts career, minus maybe thirty minutes. They single-handedly enforced every cliché involving love that was known to wizardkind. It was pretty gross, actually.

Pressing her nose once more into the pillow, Angelina heaved a sigh, her own hot breath blowing back breezily across her skin. Sometimes, she felt like her group of friends was growing more and more tight knit every day, while she stood by on the sideline like Neville Longbottom at a Quidditch match. Or Neville Longbottom at anything, for that matter.

Frankly, she was tired of people hooking up, hanging out as couples without her, casting her sympathetic glances, and hinting that she should perhaps find a boyfriend to snog. It bothered her particularly now that Fred was...

A groan escaped her. Obviously, she must be sleepy to the point of insanity if she had started to think _that._ Fed up, Angelina rammed the downy pillow over head and squelched all form of thought from her fatigued brain, resolved to make a visit to dreamland. Soon enough, she could feel herself drifting. Floating.

_Squish, squish, squish._

"Ughn." What _was_ that? The Chaser tried to block out the sound, but it seemed to be increasing in volume.

_Squish, squish, squish._

It sounded like pasta noodles being mushed together in a bowl. A very hormonal bowl.

Angelina pried her eyelids open, slightly disoriented. Fred and Katie swam into focus, various limbs jutting out haphazardly as they locked themselves into an embrace. Their lips appeared to be glued together, and it didn't look as though either of them were about to surface for air anytime soon.

Her insides churned unpleasantly, and she tried to convince herself that it was from disgust.

"Will you two knock it off?" She chucked her pillow at their heads in a half-jesting manner, but her miraculous aim failed her for once, and it bounced off the chair that Bighead Boy Percy was snoring loudly in.

Fred broke away for a split second, breathless, glimpsing Angelina's aggravated scowl. He frowned and then, deliberately, almost vindictively, he sealed his lips around Katie's again. 

She froze, injured by the the slight.

An unanticipated flash of anger rippled through her- anger at the indecency of the boy and girl snogging shamelessly in front of her, anger that she was always alone, even when she was with her friends.

Her fingers twitched towards the folds of her robes, just itching to pull out her wand and hex the daylights out of the both of them. Rage bubbled up from her chest, a hot and furious monster, and squeezed its way past her throat.

She wasn't even aware she had spoken aloud until half the common room had gone suddenly still, staring at her with baited curiosity.

"What did you say?" said Fred quietly, his eyes two sharp pinpricks cutting into her own.

"You heard me," Angelina snarled, looking daggers at him and Katie. "But if you'd like me to repeat it, I gladly will: It would be very kind if you two would _stop sucking face in bleeding public as it's making me want to vomit." _

An angry red tinge stained Katie's cheeks and her boyfriend placed a freckled hand over hers defensively. Alicia gasped, glancing nervously back and forth between them as if watching a tennis match, unsure of whoose face to focus on. Angelina felt her hands clench involuntarily, nails biting into her palms.

"I see." If possible, his voice became even lower. "And when has it become any of your business what we do?"

"Of course it's my bloody business what you do when you're _doing it_ right in front of me!" She jumped up as suddenly as though the couch cushions had burned her and tossed her hair back wildly. "I've had enough of seeing you lot stick tongues down each others' throats."

"Well, no one's making you watch are they?" Fred retorted viciously, piping up for Katie, who appeared to be shocked into silence. "I though that's how you got your kicks- Watching other people have fun and then whining when they aren't as miserable as you!"

"Oh, so now I'm _miserable,_ am I? That's funny, because I could have sworn you were dying to ask me out the other day before Katie got to you first." A desperate lie, but it might fool Katie.

Angelina stormed around to the back of the couch and kicked it as Fred jumped up and tugged Katie behind him in a protective gesture. "God knows there's no chemistry between you anyway." She spat the last bit, hoping it stung.

Ears now burning brightly, Fred twisted his mouth into a grimace and was about to make some scathing remark when he was nudged aside by Katie. Normally so peppy, her countenance had turned ominously stormy, eyes glimmering moistly.

"You never said a thing." Her voice trembled. "You never said anything at all to George and Alicia. It doesn't bother you when they're together. I think..." She drew herself up to her full height, which granted wasn't at all tall, but her glare almost made Angelina feel like she was wilting. "I think you're jealous of me."

"Jealous?" Those two syllables tasted bitter in her mouth. She forced her lips to form a sardonic smile. "Of a bint with some halfbaked dog following her about? Hardly!"

"Angelina! Don't you think you're being a bit unfair?" Alicia exclaimed, aghast, as George shook his head in furious defense of his twin.

Fred looked over Katie's head at her with an unreadable expression, lines of tension at the corners of his eyes.

Angelina turned sharply on her heel and stalked up the spiral staircase, robes swishing noisily around her legs. As she slammed the door to the girl's dorm shut, she could hear voices erupt from the students down below. _That will give them something to chat about for a few days,_ she thought spitefully.

The loud _shinck_ of metal rings scraping across the curtain rod echoed through the circular room as Angelina ripped the drapes of her four poster shut. Air was puffing from her lungs in short, heavy gasps. Her eyes burned as she stared into the darkness, but she refused to close them.

Enclosed in the darkness, she waited for what seemed like ages before she heard footsteps tapping up the corridor. She was positive that it was Alicia, who would slip into her bed any second, wrap her in her arms, and console her like she always did. Or maybe Katie would draw back the curtains with forgiveness stark upon her face, willing to accept Angelina's apology for being such an ugly, meddling bitch.

But no one came. She heard the faint rustling of two people crawling in to their separate beds, and then the candle being blown out with a decisive breath.

Only then did Angelina allow herself to cry, digging her sore body into the twisting sheets, shaking with silent tears.

----

Thanks so much to my lovely reviewers** Akkiejj, Brigs, toolazytosignin, and HomeSpunLove37. **You will be receiving your Weasley Twin plushies in the mail any day now for your amazingness! Hopefully this chapter wasn't too much of a cheesy soap opera for you guys.

**As for anyone else reading this- **I spend a lot of time on these chapters, and it only takes a quick second to review. I appreciate feedback of any kind, even if it's just to yell at me for that crack about Neville Longbottom (for which I sincerely apologize). :D


	3. The Trouble With Nasty Faced Flint

**Disclaimer: **Don't own it, wish I did.

**Chapter Three:**

**The Trouble With Nasty-Faced Flint**

The next morning, Angelina awoke to find the girls' dormitory filled with a stony silence. Katie and Alicia were already up and about, and the threesome had exchanged several filthy looks before she had even clambered from her covers.

She stared out of a high, narrow window as the others squinted into their mirrors and pulled their hair up, deciding she would rather be late for breakfast than endure the cold shoulder any longer than necessary.

When it was evident that she needed to get down to the Great Hall or else miss out on food entirely, she sighed, placed her copy of Quidditch Through the Ages inside of her trunk, and trudged down the spiral staircase.

As usual, the house tables were overflowing with sizzling bacon, eggs, biscuits, and porridge, and the students were chattering loudly with one another. No one at the Gryffindor table seemed to notice Angelina, which was just as well; she knew she looked horrible. There were deep shadows under her downcast eyes, and her skin still felt swollen from crying.

She looked over at Fred, hoping that if she looked miserable enough he might speak to her again, but he seemed rather wrapped up in a discussion with George, and was making an obvious effort at avoiding her. Alicia and Katie were, of course, still determinedly ignoring her.

Angelina shot a gloomy look at her pile of toast, wanting simultaneously to kick herself for loosing control last night and box her friends' ears for being so thickheaded. Hopefully, they'd manage to get over themselves by the game on Friday. Otherwise, she might not be able to resist turning the Quaffle into some sort of bludgeoning weapon...

Just then, a shadow fell over her shoulder. Turning around, Angelina found her nose practically pressed into a bulky torso that was clad in Slytherin green. The blocklike head of Marcus Flint loomed over it, bloated lips arranged into a leer over his foul, crooked teeth.

Immediately, Angelina recoiled, pressing her back as far into the bench as it would go. Her jug of pumpkin juice wobbled at the impact, but didn't fall.

"So, Johnson, ready to lose tomorrow?" he jeered, clearly trying to get a rise out of her.

"Hardly." She glared hard at the pockmarked slab that was his face, willing the skin to melt off of it. "We're playing a team that spends more time raising funds for pretty uniforms and broomsticks than actually practicing... What's the challenge in that?"

Conversation around them grew quiet as Gryffindors peered around their friends, trying to get a glimpse of the escalating confrontation. Even the twins, Katie, and Alicia had momentarily given up their Angelina-Is-Invisible charade.

Flint, obviously enjoying being a spectacle, tightened his tie around his beefy neck with exasperating superiority.

"Well, I for one am surprised that the Gryffindors have managed to win a single match this year, what with you being Captain and all. Letting anyone with polluted blood on a broomstick is just asking for trouble- You didn't even manage to stay on it last year, did you? It's that mixed parentage of yours; can't get anywhere with that sort of history."

Angelina felt the blood drain from her brain at the dig at her parentage, and found herself temporarily at a loss for words.

"Tell me," he continued, "Was it your mother or your father who decided to betra-"

A sudden clatter from across the table drowned out whatever he had been about to say next. Angelina's head whipped around to watch as Fred jumped up, banging into a tureen of fried tomatoes in the process, one hand plunging into the depths of his robes.

"Watch your fat mouth, Flint, unless you want it hexed off you!" And Fred looked more than ready to follow through with that threat, Angelina noted as the deep magenta of his ears clashed with his hair.

Flint, who had at least three times the muscle mass of both the twins put together, turned an ugly shade of purple and closed his thick fingers clumsily around his wand.

"I should've guessed you'd stand up for a halfblood," he goaded. "All you Weasleys are traitors!"

This caused George, who was almost as infuriated as Fred, to leap to his brother's side, but a pale Alicia tugged at his sleeve until he was forced to sit back down.

A burst of orange sparks shot involuntarily from the end of Fred's wand, burning the Slytherin's nose, and he opened his mouth to make another scathing retort.

Realizing that yet another detention from one of the team members would probably force them to withdraw from the match, Angelina straightened up and slammed a fist onto the table.

"Shut it, you two, or you'll get both our houses disqualified." Angelina hissed. She jerked her head to McGonagall and Snape, who had risen from their seats and were scurrying down the Great Hall.

Resembling a Confunded troll more than ever, Flint pretended to be suddenly fascinated by something on the other side of the room. Muttering darkly under his breath, he sauntered off, his arms swinging heavily at his sides like bricks.

Seeing that they had both missed the opportunity to hand out detentions to their rival houses, the professors stalked back to the staff table, looking severely disappointed.

Letting out a sharp breath, Fred lowered his arm and sunk down onto the bench. Pink patches were glowing beneath his freckles, and he ran his fingers through his hair, trying to regain control of himself.

"Bloody bastard," he wheezed, and George nodded enthusiastically.

"He deserves every single dragonbomb that'll be detonating in his bed tonight." George replied conspiratorially. Katie and Alicia snickered into their hash browns.

Angelina heaved a sigh of relief, thinking that perhaps they'd all be able to patch up yesterday's incident and move on.

"Fred," she murmured seriously, "Thanks for sticking up for me."

As if he had only just noticed her sitting there, Fred's head jolted up and he began sputtering wordlessly. She was positive that he was about to brush it off grin forgivingly, but he stiffened instead when he noticed Katie shaking her head warningly.

"I didn't do it for you. I-I couldn't stand by and watch him insult the team, now could I?" he muttered falteringly.

Angelina felt her gut wrench painfully, and a bitter taste congealed in her mouth.

"I had no idea your girlfriend had you so _whipped."_ Without waiting for a reply, she flung her bag over her shoulder and stalked away, her hips snapping back and forth impudently.

The first bell rung over the throng of students, and the flushed Chaser was swallowed up in a flurry of motion. Sickened by the thought Katie's smugness, she repressed the desire to look behind her, and so she missed her best friend's regretful expression entirely.

---

Things only went downhill during Charms, their first lesson of the day. Tiny Professor Flitwick, who had to perch himself atop of several hefty tomes in order to be seen, was having a difficult time trying to prevent the two girls from launching themselves into a duel. In what he thought had a been a rather considerate motion, he had paired them up to practice a partner-levitation charm, but he soon realized his mistake.

"Rrrr!" Angelina growled, righting herself from where Katie had levitated her straight into a pile of chairs. _"Cuerpa Leviosa!" _Her wand arm swished violently and lifted the panting brunette off her feet. She was left squirming in midair for a couple of seconds before Angelina flung her into the stack of books that Flitwick was hopping on anxiously.

"Unnf!"

The little man yelped, Katie struggled to untangle herself from the professor's limbs, and Angelina tugged scornfully at a tear in her robes. A few students took up the chant of "Fight, fight, fight," and the rest joined in for a rousing chorus.

The petite girl finally disengaged herself from the heap of legs and pages, hurdling herself back into combat as the crowd cheered wildly.

"Enough, enough!" Flitwick squeaked, adjusting his crooked spectacles, but his voice was easily drowned out in the deafening chaos.

"_Cuerpa Leviosa,"_ Katie snarled, and Angelina experienced a sensation of momentary weightlessness, as though her stomach had plummeted towards her feet. In a flash, her back had collided into the stone wall with an unhealthy crack, and she slumped down, the wind knocked from her lungs.

"_I SAID, THAT'S ENOUGH!"_ Everyone clamped their hands over their ears as Flitwick magically amplified his shrill voice to a blaring volume.

"Goodness!" His gaze flitting nervously about and he gulped compulsively, obviously never having witnessed a crazed vendetta in his classroom before.

The girls stood stock still, frozen into their defensive positions, before slowly lowering their wands.

"Um, right!" Letting out a high-pitched squawk of laughter, the teeny Charms teacher stuttered, "C-c-c-change of partners, then."

Katie was paired with fumbling Betty Stark, who was infamous for leaving her partners in slings with her klutzy incantations, and Angelina was matched up with Daniel Marques, the dark, strong-jawed, Ravenclaw.

Angelina's face was plastered with a contemptuous smirk all throughout the remainder of class.

---

Several hours later, Angelina was crossing the windswept grounds for Herbology, gazing up listlessly at the overcast sky. The assault in Charms had left her body smarting and bruised, and now she was just trying to make it through the rest of the day.

Abruptly, footsteps thudded on the hard earth behind her. Expecting another confrontation, she whirled around and came face to face with Lee Jordan's bobbing dreads.

"Heya, Angie!" His white teeth beamed above his striped scarf as he flashed a wise smile. "Heard you've run into some problems with our cozy little social circle."

"Cozy," she snorted derisively. "You mean when we're not hexing each other's turned backs and insulting one another's dates? I'm sure the twins have filled you in on what a priss I've been lately."

Lee shrugged casually.

"They might've mentioned something of the sort."

"I suspected as much."

"Don't worry. I'm smart enough not to pick sides when the battle involves two girls fighting over a piece of man-meat."

Lee took several paces before he realized that Angelina had stopped dead, and he looked over his shoulder to find her scowling, arms crossed and hip cocked.

"Oh, that's what Fred told you, is it? That all this drama is about us lusting after his ego-inflated head?"

Her friend let out a low chortle, and then grew serious. "Of course not. The boy's too thick skulled to ever notice when a girl's interested in him." Angelina breathed a sigh of relief.

"I'm only saying," he continued guardedly, "That it would take a complete dunderhead to not to see that you're utterly in love with Fred and want to have lots and lots of sex and babies with him."

"_What?"_ Angelina screeched, eyes bulging. "I do _not _want to have lots and lots of s-sex with F-Fred Weasley!" A group of dawdling Hufflepuffs overheard this comment and began cackling madly, a few wolf whistles meeting her ears. Blushing madly, she lowered her voice.

"And I most definitely, absolutely, do not want anyone having his children! Ever!" She stamped away.

"Right." The dreadlocked boy rolled his eyes and traipsed after her. "So that whole hair-ripping, nail-clawing episode with Katie, that was what? A joust for the favors of Marcus Flint?"

Angelina squinted down the sloping lawn to where the 6th year greenhouse stood before sighing softly.

"Maybe you have a point." She tried to shrug nonchalantly, but a lump in her throat was making it impossible to give a swallow of indifference.

"Angie," Lee said gently. "I know that this is one fire-breathing dragon of an problem for you, and I don't mean to come off as being insensitive. But can you please just try and apologize? You've really hurt Katie. Not to mention Fred. You know how much they both value your opinion." He regarded her prudently, a certain satisfaction spreading over his features as she gave a feeble nod.

"I suppose you're right," she grunted. "But that doesn't mean I want to bear any Weasley children." The renowned Quidditch announcer slapped her on the back cheerfully before pushing her in the direction of Professor Sprout's row of greenhouses.

"Good, I'm glad to hear it. Now, you go grow those bubotubers, Ang. Make me proud."

---

**A huge thank you to my reviewers kindastared, Brigs, Akkiejj, readysetsmile, HomeSpunLove37, Farie Insignias, and coni!** You guys are totally magnificent for putting up with all the torture I'm putting Angelina through.

Anyway, review and I'll get Hagrid to cook up some tasty rock cakes for you! (And I might just give you another chapter, too.)


	4. The Trouble With Pretty Boy Ravenclaws

**Disclaimer: **Don't own it, wish I did.

**Chapter Four:**

**The Trouble With Pretty-Boy Ravenclaws**

"Euugh!"

Angelina had to duck as a glob of bubotuber pus swelled out from the slug-like plant and burst, nearly striking her left shoulder. With a gloved hand, she gripped the black wriggling plant, desperately attempting to push it back down into its new pot.

"Get down- You stupid- You nasty- Yuck, yuck, yuck!" The smell of petrol engulfed her protesting nostrils as another squirt of yellow secretion splattered across her safety goggles. Wondering for the millionth time if bubotuber plants could actually be classified as vegetation and not giant zombie earthworms, Angelina wiped her forehead with the only pus-free portion of her sleeve, sweating profusely.

"Now, children, make sure to firmly bury your bubotubers with soil. We wouldn't want any to wiggle out onto the floor for someone to step on!" Professor Sprout chortled, looking far too happy for someone surrounded by so much foul, smelly projectile.

"Honestly, who would voluntarily pick this as a career?" a boy muttered from across the greenhouse table, mirroring her exact thoughts.

About to make a sarcastic reply, Angelina glanced up to the owner of the voice, and was a bit surprised to find Daniel Marques shoving a squirming plant into a mound of dirt. She had almost forgotten he shared this class with her, which was strange, especially considering he had been her Charms partner that same day.

Daniel looked up suddenly, catching her staring at him, and flashed her a quick, dazzling grin. _Merlin, his teeth are so __**white.**_ Flushing, she ducked her head down, but immediately regretted it when a swelling on her plant exploded and smacked her squarely in the chest. Luckily, the Ravenclaw didn't seem to notice because he continued to smile unwaveringly.

Angelina felt her cheeks heating to a deep umber. She secretly marveled that the dark-eyed boy managed to look like he had just stepped off the cover of Teen Witch even though he was cramped in a humid, stinking greenhouse. She made a vain attempt to wipe off the slick mess that clung to her apron, lapsing into uncharacteristic self-consciousness.

"So, what was up with you and Katie today? You seemed rather angry with each other in Flitwick's." Well, the boy certainly had a knack for understatements.

"Oh, uh, just girl stuff, you know."

Her tongue was sticking to the roof of her mouth. Her hands trembled a bit. Her fingers clutched her spade a little tighter. Katie? She knew someone named Katie? She could only vaguely recall...

Daniel frowned pensively, peering down at his slimy gloves as though trying to puzzle something out. Unexpectedly, he met her eyes with shrewd scrutiny.

"It wasn't over some boy, I hope?" he piped casually.

In a flash, the familiar image of a ginger haired boy swam to the forefront of Angelina's mind, the picture conjuring up that strange feeling between her ribcage again. It was almost as if a clod of bubotuber pus had sunk beneath her skin and was causing her internal organs to erupt in painful boils. But the fight wasn't about Fred, Angelina told herself unconvincingly. It was about her friends ignoring her.

There wasn't even the tiniest fraction of jealousy inside of her as she watched Fred's arm crook around her friend's slim waist, not even the smallest amount of sadness when their lips met by the fire in the common room...

She became acutely aware that Daniel was watching her carefully, and that she had not answered him. Uncomfortably, she coughed to clear her throat, and not quite trusting the steadiness of her voice she shook her head.

He broke into yet another grin, a slight dusky red glowing beneath his olive skin.

"Then I don't suppose you'd like to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?"

Angelina balked, but only for a moment. It wasn't out of surprise that he had asked her, although there was that. Sure, this boy was gorgeous, smart, and friendly, but why did she feel like she would be somehow betraying Fred if she accepted? With a mental shake, the Gryffindor reminded herself that Fred was with Katie, Katie was with Fred, and that she hadn't had a date in a long time. She deserved to have a little fun.

"Um, that would be... nice," she stammered nervously. Daniel looked rather pleased with himself.

"See you Saturday, then."

"Yeah, right."

There was an awkward pause, which was interrupted by the bell signifying the end of class. Students abandoned their stations around the greenhouse table, ripping off their aprons and tossing their gloves into bins.

"Walk you to your next class?" He inquired confidently.

"Actually, no." A sudden urge to flee the sweltering nursery flooded through Angelina, who felt inexplicably dismayed at the new arrangement. "I mean- I mean- that's alright. I think I need a bit of fresh air. You know, alone. Those bubotuber fumes must have gone to my brain."

Daniel looked a bit put-out, but he nodded understandingly and waved goodbye, a bit of a strut to his step as he made his way out onto the grounds. Throwing back her head, she let out a self-pitying moan. What was wrong with her?

"Boy troubles, dear?" Professor Sprout asked kindly, her squashing her little triangular hat securely onto her gray curls. _Boys,_Angelina thought despairingly. _Why did it always have to be boys?_

---

By the time Angelina ambled down to the Great Hall for lunch from another _inspiring _History of Magic lecture, it seemed that half the school knew about her imminent date with the alluring Ravenclaw. Random girls kept approaching her to give her high fives, and a few shot nasty glares at her.

She bumped into Lee as she rounded a corner, who gave her a wink that seemed to say, _Why you saucy tart, I knew you had it in you._ Rolling her eyes as he gave her arm a tiny pinch, Angelina readjusted the bag on her shoulder and continued her way down the corridor.

"Heard about your latest conquest." Lee made disgusting kissing noises and a few rather crude remarks that made her cringe. "Glad to see you aren't still sulking over a certain someone."

Angelina winced, and her dreadlocked friend cast her a look of disbelief.

"So, you _are_ still sulking?"

"Oh, shut your gob." 

"Is this just a desperate attempt to avoid owning up to the fact that you're mooning over Fred Weasley?"

"I thought I told you to shut it," she hissed, her eyes darting nervously around the deserted hall as though the twin might come leaping out from a suit of armor.

"I'm beginning to think your fixation is a little more than just-"

"Leonard Patrick Jordan, would you shut the hell up?!"

Lee held up his hands in mock surrender.

"Geez, woman, I was just trying to help."

Angelina was just about to make a snide remark about the exact location that Lee could stick a bubotuber plant when angry voices began to filter down the corridor, making several of the portraits clamp their hands over their ears and grumble in protest. Exchanging a quick look, the two Gryffindors increased their pace, instantly recognizing the voices of the people engaged in a shouting match.

They bounded down the hallway, almost toppling over a spiky, rather dodgy looking shrub in the process, anxious to see what was happening. And sure enough, as they passed the bend in the wall, they saw Katie Bell and Marcus Flint at each other's throats at the foot of some moving stairs.

Although only about 7 stone when sopping wet, the brown haired girl's malice made up for it tenfold. She had her wand whipped out and pointed dangerously between Flint's surprised eyes, and she looked ready to hex the skin straight off his bones.

"I'm gonna say this once, and _only_ once. If you ever insult my friend again, I'll have your ugly head sprouting leeks for the rest of your life."

Angelina was totally caught off guard. Surely, Katie wasn't defending _her?_ This morning, she had seemed ready to strike her over the head with a pot of boiling hot gravy. She started forward, but Lee grabbed her by the collar and held her back.

Looking a bit less bold than usual, Flint hesitated before twisting his scarred mouth into a grimace.

"Who, Johnson?" he scoffed. "A halfblood is a halfblood is a halfblood, which is something you Gryffindors don't seem to get. It'll get you into trouble with _our_ side, one of these days."

Even from where Lee and Angelina stood, it was easy to see the acidity of Katie's stare as her eyes bored into the Slytherin's.

"That's it!" Katie spat venomously before hurdling one of the best Bat-Bogey hexes either of them had ever had the glory of witnessing.

With enormous and perhaps sadistic satisfaction written clearly upon her face, she stepped back and crossed her arms, watching with delight as Flint's bogies sprouted wings and began attacking his own squashed face.

They stared in awed silence as Flint began shrieking like a nine year old and darted like mad past them, hands clawing blindly. The brunette's haughty gaze followed him, but her smirk wavered when she found Angelina and Lee gaping at her, the latter still with a fistful of his companion's collar, both appearing highly impressed. Katie turned away, looking annoyed and even a little abashed at having been caught defending her friend-turned-foe.

The knotty haired boy was the first to return to Earth, and he shoved the suddenly shy Angelina forward by the scruff of her neck. Remembering her promise to apologize, she stumbled towards her defender, who was gazing coldly at a portrait of Haggas the Happy Hiccupper.

"Katie," she whispered, fiddling with the strap on her book bag and swallowing her pride. "Look, I- I'm sorry about the whole thing with, well, you know. I didn't mean anything I said." She faltered as Katie swiveled around, her expression unreadable. "You were right. I was jealous. I mean, not of you and F-Fred of course, but that everyone else seemed to be in a relationship." Angelina gave a crooked half-smile and stuck out her hand bravely. "Forgive me?"

The smaller girl glanced at Angelina's outstretched palm, to her face, and back at her hand again. Then, she burst out laughing.

"It's about bloody time you apologized!" she choked through bouts of laughter. "I was starting to think I'd have to dump a bucketful of porridge on your head next breakfast or something." Beaming at Katie's practically telepathic comment, Angelina promptly forgot about the handshake and enveloped her friend into a hug.

After a while (and a bit of Lee coughing awkwardly), Katie drew back and grew serious.

"I guess I owe you an apology, too. Maybe I shouldn't have said those things last night. And I definitely should have said something this morning with that stupid git in your face." She paused and then continued lightly, "But you don't have to worry about pretending you don't like Fred anymore. We've broken up."

Angelina's mouth dropped open and her facial muscles seemed to collapse as though she was experiencing a stroke. She was so stupefied, in fact, that she forgot to deny having a crush on Fred.

"What? _Why?_ The two of you seemed so... cozy last night!"

Katie blushed a furious tomato-red, spluttering.

"Er, well. Fred and I... We both sort of came to the conclusion that we're better off friends. Snogging him was just... weird. And don't think I'm a total minx or anything, but I was really just trying to make this- this other guy jealous."

For reasons that Angelina could not fathom, Katie flashed a mortified look over to where Lee was stood bumbling about, his eyes lifted upwards to the ceiling as though pretending not to be listening. Raking a few slim fingers through her brown bangs in huffy annoyance, Katie glowered.

"It doesn't appear to have worked, however."

Comprehension dawned over Angelina like a candle being lit.

"Wait, wait. You and L- _Mmmph!"_ Katie had smothered her next words with a frantic hand, regarding Lee suspiciously.

Lee had the grace to continue staring ignorantly up at the stone ceiling, and was now whistling something that most nearly resembled "It's Starting to Look a lot like Christmas."

With a giggle, Angelina peeled her the pincer-like grip of her friend's hand from her lips.

"I hope you know that your case is totally hopeless."

Guffawing without any trace of her trademark elegance, Katie muttered, "You know, I sorta figured." And the two waltzed off to eat their lunch peaceably for the first time in what seemed like ages, the moplike head of Lee Jordan waggling along after them.

---

Angelina spent a great deal of the remaining day dodging her earnest beau in the halls. He seemed to be tracking her down like a man possessed, but for whatever reason, she didn't feel prepared to talk to him yet. Being around Daniel made her feel inadequate, almost out of her league, and she wasn't in the mood to putter around like a nervous first year. Just thinking about Hogsmeade was making her rather sick to her stomach.

Every corner she turned, he popped up out of nowhere as if he had apparated, and she found herself making excuses for abrupt trips to the library, the bathroom, to common room, anywhere.

So, it wasn't much later when she hurried out to the courtyard, a clammy sweat breaking out across her brow from tramping about so quickly. Despite her raised temperature, she tightened her scarlet and gold scarf around her long neck as the damp October chill hit her.

She trodded along a gravel path, her trainers grinding pleasantly against the rocks, thinking about what had happened at lunch a few hours ago. When Alicia and the twins saw that she and Katie had made up, they all made an obvious effort to pretend like nothing had ever occurred, an attitude they had adopted long ago for circumstances like these.

Being around Fred, however, was still a bit perplexing. All throughout her meal, she had felt Fred cast searching looks in her direction, but she kept her eyes fixed on her steamed broccoli. The tension just seemed to increase when Katie and Alicia started to squeal over Daniel Marques, forcing her to dish out the entire tale of herbology. Once or twice, she swore she saw Fred's hand tighten convulsively around his goblet out of the corner of her eye. When she reached the part about her date for Hogsmeade, she thought she spotted him tearing his napkin to bits sulkily, but maybe it was only a trick of the light.

Angelina was completely clueless as to why her friend, who had never suggested anything but a strictly platonic relationship, seemed offended at the idea of her dating some Ravenclaw. He probably knew the bloke and didn't like him, she told herself as she breathed in the moist autumn air.

It only took a few minutes before she stumbled upon two very familiar, very identical heads bowed together over a single scrap of parchment. The Weasley twins were perched eagerly upon a wooden bench, their brown eyes glinting maniacally. It was as obvious to Angelina as it would be to anyone: Fred and George were plotting something.

Ducking behind some rather advantageously placed foliage, she cocked her head, trying to catch a fragment of the conversation.

"-And what about adding some Snidget claws, that would add a nice bang to it."

"Excellent idea, dear brother of mine."

"Why thank you, Fred."

"You're welcome. And then some Nogtail noses, I suppose?"

"But not too many, we don't want to kill anyone-"

"OK, then. Small concentration of nogtail nose... Right." The scribbling scratch of quill on paper could be heard. 

"What do you think boomslang skin would do?"

"That would probably give the user an added side effect gangrene, George."

A brief pause, and then from both:

"_Wicked."_

Not really wanting to know what they were concocting, Angelina cleared her throat loudly and stepped out into the clearing.

"How much of that did you hear?" George questioned instantly, but Angelina's gaze was drawn to Fred's magnetically, and the two began an intense staring contest.

"That was top secret Wizard Wheezes business, that was," he continued, his brow crinkling when neither of the two spared him a glance.

"Are we going to have to Obliviate you, Angelina?" George gave a feeble laugh at his pathetic attempt at humor, but stopped short when he realized he was being left behind entirely.

"Fine then," he muttered under his breath, "Way to make a bloke feel like a friendless flobberworm."

Rolling up the mysterious piece of parchment with a snap and tucking his quill roughly into a pocket, he trudged away, looking back curiously a few times at Angelina and his twin.

Angelina was seriously beginning to doubt that either of them would ever break the silence. She briefly rummaged through every word in her vocabulary, trying to come up with anything to say. Whatever Fred seemed to want to tell her, she sorely hoped he'd spit it out soon, as her eyes were beginning to water and a twitch was developing in her right cheek.

A fat bird twittered nosily overhead...

Tree frogs croaked rhythmically...

A snail creeped by...

The giant squid let out a mournful wail...

And then finally-

"_So."_

Not quite the words she was hoping for, but she had long since learned to lower her standards for the Weasley twins.

"Yes, Fred?" she simpered, fighting the urge to laugh at the befuddlement stamped across his features.

"Do you really think I'm a halfbaked dog?"

"Do you really think I'm miserable?" she shot back, but a smile floated beneath her defensiveness.

"Course not, Angie," came his uncharacteristically soft response, the premature lines at the corners of his eyes unfurling into smoothness once more. His head of red hair dropped unanticipatedly towards his knees, and Angelina could only watch, unsettled, as he pressed the heels of his palms into the space between his thick lashes and heavy brows.

Hoping to strike up a conversation so that things could finally return to normal, she plopped down onto the bench beside him. Her curling scarf brushed up against his arm like a whisper, and he bristled, standing up as if doused with cold water. Angelina scowled as he began to pace across the path, pebbles crunching with every step he took. For Merlin's' sake, she wished he would stop acting so odd. She waited in silence.

Then, as though he had suddenly reached a decision, Fred stopped his pacing and pivoted on the spot to face her.

"Angie, look, you know that I'm your friend. You know that. But-" He broke off, leaving his sentence fragment trailing into the distant denseness of the air like a solemn balloon.

Angelina stood stock still, forgetting how to breath, and in fact, forgetting entirely about the existence of oxygen. He gave a futile gesture, throwing a slender arm up as if he could catch the right words.

"But I think maybe it's time I told you-"

"Angelina, there you are! I've been looking for you everywhere!" A breathless Daniel Marques jogged over, looking absolutely ecstatic. The ebony skinned Gryffindor could barely contain her glare when he sauntered up to her, and he in turn became a bit miffed when Fred groaned in exasperation and stamped off.

"What, Daniel?" She snapped, her tone more curt than she intended. What had Fred been just about to tell her?

If Daniel noticed her agitation, he didn't show it.

"I'd rather you call me Dan, actually. Daniel's my father. Anyway, I was wondering if you could help me with that Charms essay that's due tomorrow? That is, if you're not busy," he said in one gulp.

"Well, since you asked politely," she grumbled, and stalked back up to the castle, jerking her hand away moodily when Daniel tried to capture it in his own. Not being deterred in the slightest, he slung a muscled arm around her shoulder, which Angelina was too distracted to shrug off.

---

A bit of a note because some of you who have been asking- yes, this is an AU story. I've switched around some of the years of students/events just to make things more convenient to the plot (or maybe the words "random, unrelated string of events" is more fitting). I've added it to the summary just to lessen the confusion.

**And now another big "thank you" to my reviewers: Brigs, ninjaxxpirate, keisha.cl/coni, Akkiejj, fiona, kaypgirl, and kindastared. You guys rock!**

A fresh batch of Hagrid's tasty rock cakes for anyone who wants to review.


	5. The Trouble With Beater Bats

**Disclaimer: **Don't own it, wish I did.

**Chapter Five:  
The Trouble With Beater Bats**

_It was dim._

_The light that fell upon the two figures was strange and grey, as if the sun was being filtered through thick gauze. In her dream, she had stepped outside of her own body to see herself crouched next to him, his face shining with vivid detail despite the formlessness of the room around them. They did not speak._

_Her skin, dark like summer soil, contrasted with the brilliant gold of his hair as their foreheads touched. Neither breathed, as though the serenity of the moment would shatter with an intake of breath. But both hearts hammered audibly where the soft cloth of their shirts whispered against each other._

_The monotone world surrounding them roared by a great speed, unnoticed._

_Their lips met, finally. The kiss was gentle, knowing, and his mouth felt warm like-_

Sunlight poured sluggishly through her bed's slightly parted curtains and Angelina awoke abruptly, squinting against the dawn.

She frowned, trying to recall what she had been dreaming about. It had had something to do with Fred, but the image of it was vague, its remnants fading quickly. She rolled over grumpily and brushed it aside, too worried to think about what was probably just the meaningless babble of her subconscious.

Laying awake anxiously, she listened to the soft snores of her friends and wondered what Gryffindor's chances of winning were. It wasn't just the first game of the season- it was the first match with Angelina as Quidditch Captain, and she wanted to prove herself worthy of Oliver's replacement.

Doubts buzzed in her mind. What if she hadn't been pushing the team hard enough? What if she made a fool of herself in front the entire school? She smothered a groan by smashing her face into the pillow, a nervous twinge settling in her stomach.

Finally, she sat up, berating herself for being fearful. Gryffindor hadn't lost a match to Slytherin since Harry Potter had joined the line up, and she wasn't about to let it start today. With a devious grin, Angelina slipped from between the sheets, tossed a pillow at Alicia's peacefully sleeping face, and pounced onto Katie's four poster, who woke with a start.

"Nnno m'fessor, I didunt do it!" Katie's hoarse voice shouted as she leapt up, still uncomprehending.

"Oh, Quidditch," came her grunt.

Blinking in order to clear her sleep fogged eyes, Alicia snorted, "Dreaming about forcing yourself on Professor Snape again?"

"Ugh, no thank you!" Katie looked as though she had just taken a bite out of something sour.

When the trio arrived at the Great Hall for breakfast, the long tables were nearly empty except for a small huddle of Gryffindors. Angelina plopped down next to Fred as usual, who was looking rather solemn for a Weasley twin, and slung an arm around him casually. He looked up at her in surprise, and his lips parted slightly as if he were casting about for something to say.

"Now, do you want to tell me what you were getting at yesterday?" Her nose accidentally brushed against the softness of his hair as she whispered the words into his ear. Staring blankly at a piece of toast, he shied away from the proximity, carefully placing a few inches between the two of them. In his haste to get away, his legs bumped into George's, whose pumpkin juice sloshed over the rim of his goblet and down his striped shirt.

"Watch it, clumsy." George glanced past his twin's head at Angelina, and then looked knowingly at Fred. "Hormones getting in the way of your gracefulness this morning?"

Fred shot a withering stare at his brother, who seemed to be innocently examining the third prong of his fork.

"No," he muttered, answering her question at last and glancing back at her again, twisting his mouth into the forced vestiges of a smile. "It wasn't important."

Angelina knit her brows, trying to decipher both Fred's glum expression as he poked a spoon into his porridge, along with his standoffishness. Did he not want to be around her? It wasn't at all like him to get upset over anything, but he'd been acting like this ever since... She wracked her brain pensively.

Ever since he and Katie had broken up.

Katie made it seem like a simple fling, but it looked as if Fred felt otherwise. Angelina felt as if she had been punched in the gut by a dementor, and she valiantly attempted to tell herself it was for the best. So what if Fred liked someone else? She didn't want to jeopardize the best friendship she had.

She reminded herself of the handsome Ravenclaw she had a date with, but at that thought, her stomach gave another twist.

---

The Gryffindor team was gathered just outside the house locker rooms, bouncing around in anticipation, pre-game adrenaline thrumming through their bodies.

"Right team," Angelina began, fondly remembering all of Oliver's pre-match threats. "This is a game of many firsts. It's the first of the season, the first time for our newest Weasley over here," (at this she nodded towards Ron, who was looking rather green under all of his freckles), "and also, this is the first game with me as your Captain."

She paused to consider her teammates. Potter was pale and somber as he always was before Quidditch, and the twins were standing stock-still in military salutes, clearly not listening to a word that she was saying. Alicia was beaming in her general direction in a sort of vacant way, whereas Katie was staring wistfully up at the commentator's box. The dreadlocks of Lee Jordan, Angelina saw, were being silhouetted there by the early morning sun as he set up his megaphone.

The Chaser sighed in exasperation. Was anyone even listening to her? No wonder Oliver had always resorted to blackmail and intimidation.

"Listen up," she snapped, causing Ron to jump, Alicia's eyes to refocus, and Katie to snap back to attention. Even the twins lowered their hands from their foreheads (but that was probably just to hide their sniggers).

_Well, at least it worked, _she reasoned.

"Here's the abridged version for all of you with attention span disorders: I swear on Merlin's left incisor, if you lot don't win this match I'll never speak to any of you again, so you'd better make sure you play and play well."

Nobody said anything.

"Please." She added rather lamely.

"Not quite up to 'Decent Pep Talk' on the Wood Scale, but I'm sure you'll make it eventually," George smirked.

"Alright, quick review of Slytherin's current line-up then." Everyone groaned, but Angelina had grown immune to their complaints during practice. "Derick and Bole-" she gave a dismissive snort- "Can't tell a bludger from their own heads."

"We can handle them, Angie!" Fred spoke up for the first time since breakfast, waving his beater's bat with a wink. George nodded emphatically.

"Good. Now, we'll want to watch out for Warrington and Flint; they play dirty, so it's best just to keep clear of 'em unless they've got the Quaffle."

"Slytherins? Play dirty? You're joking, right?" Alicia cut in sarcastically.

Angelina rolled her eyes. "Just don't provoke them, is all I'm saying."

Dewey grass dappled the scarlet hems of their robes with moisture as they filed out onto the pitch. Angelina was churning with nerves- so much so that she hardly noticed that three fourths of the stadium was roaring with applause at their arrival. No one, it seemed, was keen on Slytherin taking the Cup this year, and even the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were sporting scarlet and gold banners.

At the end of the Quidditch pitch, however, the green clad crowd erupted as the bulky forms of the Slytherin team stalked out onto the field.

Marcus Flint, obviously recovered from the Boogey attack of the previous day and ready to seek his revenge, gave a menacing growl as he approached.

"Captains, shake hands!" barked Madam Hooch, hawkishly observing Angelina and Flint with her peculiar golden eyes.

Angelina was unprepared for the bone-shattering grip of her opponent's as his hand enclosed around hers, and her fingers cracked ominously before he finally let go.

Steeling herself before his malicious leer, she placed her injured hand over two sealed lips and then blew the burly Captain an ironic kiss. _It'll probably be the only one you'll ever get,_ she thought spitefully as he gave a hiss. Behind her, she could swear Fred was smirking with pride.

"Teams, mount your brooms."

Robes rustled as everyone swung their legs over the sticks of their brooms. Flint's eyes, two black flecks, bored into hers, and Angelina's heart gave a lurch the way it always did when something bad was about to happen.

"Let's make this a clean game, kids."

Flint sneered.

Hooch placed a whistle between her lips with a wiry arm. "On my count, then. Three... Two... One!"

The whistle trilled sharply, the balls were released, and Angelina kicked hard off the ground, launching her Cleansweep up, up, up into the thinness of the air.

Her gaze latched onto the large red ball that was steadily dropping back to Earth, and as it arched slowly, it was all that existed. Here, Angelina was doing what she felt she was born to do.

Without warning, Warrington swooped in front of her, forcing the back of his broomstick down over the end of hers and causing her to fishtail down a few feet.

"_Aaaand_ Warrington in possession of the Quaffle- oh wait, no, Johnson sweeps underneath him in an excellent display of the Swartskey Underhand Dive, taking the Quaffle." Lee's enthusiastic voice burst out of the magically amplified megaphone just as Pucey swerved straight over her head, grazing her ponytail.

To her right, Katie motioned frantically, her blond curls escaping their bun, and Angelina flung the ball towards her. Then, Pucey whirled around to dart after Katie, dodging the Bludger that Fred had beat his way. Swearing, Fred pelted after him.

"Quaffle goes to Spinnet, she's going for it, and-"

_Awwwwww! _The crowd gave a simultaneous groan as the Slytherin Keeper, Bletchly, blocked the left hoop to catch the Quaffle.

"Now, Slytherin Chaser Pucey in possession of the Quaffle, making his way back to the Gryffindor end. I'm surprised he's managed to hang onto it this long after the horrible season he had last year- Sorry, Professor McGonagall."

Angelina glanced over at the commentator's box as she raced after Pucey, who had stopped to shake his fist at Lee. McGonagall could be seen trying to snatch the megaphone away from Lee's fanatical grasp.

"But really, he's more block than human- his arms just aren't long enough to catch properly. No, Professor! I'll keep it neutral, I swear!"

As she urged her broom forward, the cold wind ripped past her ears and froze in her lungs like chunks of ice. She was gaining on Pucey, overtaking him, blocking his route to the red goal posts. George swerved in front of her, swinging at the Bludger that Bole had just launched towards her. Hardly even blinking, she dodged the twin and knocked into Pucey, arms outstretched.

He tried to twist around to Flint, who was shouting at him to pass the Quaffle, but Angelina already had it between her fingers, she was wrenching it from his weak grasp...

"Johnson takes the Quaffle again, she's heading up midfield, Flint's closing in... Oooh! Nice bludger there by Fred or George Weasley, sorry, dunno who from down here."

The world melded into a mesh of confused colors, the ground a blurry green carpet as Angelina flew up to the Slytherin goal. Doing her best to feign overconfidence, she angled her broom to the left ring, waiting until Bletchly was darting in front of it before she shot sharply to the center goal.

With all of her strength, she thrust the leather ball through the metal ring, the muscles in her arm snapping outwards and then contracting like a whip. Warrington and Flint closed around her, but too late...

The crowd below her bellowed with renewed fury as the satisfactory ding rung out. Lee's voice crackled happily over the din, "Johnson scores! Twenty points to Gryffindor! But what's this? It looks like Potter's caught a glimpse of the Snitch."

The entire stadium became a writhing mass, shifting with restless energy, every pair of eyes tracing the sky for a glint of gold. Both teams stopped dead, searching, waiting...

"There it is!" The Slytherin Beater Derick called, pointing towards the bottom of the Gryffindor goals. Angelina squinted. Two tiny specks that were obviously Potter and Malfoy were darting madly to the pitch in a steep dive.

The snowy head of Malfoy bowed low over the handle of his Nimbus 2001, but Potter was still yards ahead of him and gaining momentum with every passing second.

Suddenly, Angelina caught a flicker of movement directly over her shoulder as someone snarled, "Not this time!"

She whirled around just in time to see Flint snatch a short, thick beater club from a startled Derick. As the bat flew towards her head, her mouth formed a small "o" of surprise, and she was vaguely aware of the fact that she should have been ducking.

With a sickening crack, the dense wood slammed into the back of her skull.

For a fraction of an instant, her closing lids caught a chaotic flurry of ginger hair, and then a black curtain descended over everything.

---

OK, so this is where I beg and grovel for being such a horribly inattentive Authoress. I'm sorry for not updating sooner! I swear, I haven't forgotten about this story. And just so you know, I'm not doing author's responses to my reviews this time- it's just been too long, and so I would feel stupid responding.

**But a huge shout out to my reviewers for Chapter Four: oceansblue08, TheRedBandit, Kateg123, Bando-Eido no Megami-sama, ninjaxxpirate, Farie Insignias, Brigs…, keiSha.cl, Brigadeer 'Brigs', angelface04, Ashliegh, and 0oDeveraso0! Hopefully none of you have given up on me!**


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